Masquerade
by Ash M. Knight
Summary: Emma is invited to the queen's masquerade ball. SwanQueen.
1. Chapter 1: The Invitation

Once upon a time, in a land far away, four people were happy. The fifth, a queen, longed for something more - something she had never known.

LINE BREAK

"A masquerade ball?"

Emma's eyes moved over the invitation as they read the elegant gold ink that covered the page.

"So it would seem," Snow said coldly, turning away.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, what?"

"Well, I'm certainly not going."

"Why not?"

"Because it's hosted by the evil queen!"

"Her name is Regina, and I hear she never shows up at her parties anyway."

"That's true," Snow conceded. "But still. I'm not going."

"Well, I think it would be fun," David interjected, sitting down beside his wife. "After all, what's the worst that could happen?"

"She casts another curse, or kills us all?" Snow suggested.

Emma rolled her eyes.

"She's changed. And she's probably not even going to be there. I'm going."

"Yeah. Emma needs to meet a nice young lady, anyway," David reasoned.

His wife was not amused, not fond of the idea of her daughter being with anyone. She hadn't been bothered when Emma admitted her orientation to her parents, but she was overprotective, and wasn't ready to see her daughter dating again. They'd known Emma's preference for women since they'd returned to the Enchanted Forest. Of course, Neal, Hook, and Snow had been surprised, but David had known for a while. After all, once they'd all found out, they agreed that it had been pretty obvious. All of them had taken it well, except Henry. The only thing that bothered him was that it would now be impossible for his parents to get back together. But they all wanted her happy, and so they tried to encourage her to be herself.

"David!" Snow exclaimed, nearly slamming her mug of coffee down on the counter.

"What?" he said, smiling. "She deserves to be happy!"

"I am happy, David," Emma protested. "I have you guys."

Henry poked his head out from the hallway.

"I wanna go!" he cried.

"No way, kid," Emma told him, looking into his hopeful eyes.

"Why not?"

"You're too young, kiddo."

"I'm thirteen now. Why can't I go? I bet Grace will be there."

"I don't care if Grace will be there. I said no."

"Henry," Snow cut in. "It's really a party for adults. I don't think Grace's father would allow her to go, either.

The boy looked down and sighed, but didn't say anything else. He knew he could protest, but he was outnumbered. He'd simply have to live with their decision to leave him behind.

"So, it's settled, then," Emma said. "We're going?"

David nodded emphatically and smiled at the three of them.

"Definitely."

"I am _not_ going to what woman's party!" Snow protested.

"It's a masquerade, honey," David tried to convince her. "Even if she is there, she won't know it's you."

Snow considered this, and then considered her wardrobe.

"We'll have to come up with something for Emma to wear."

"I'm sure she'll fit into some of your old dresses."

Snow considered this, too, and finally nodded in agreement.

"Alright."

A smile spread across Emma's lips as she looked at her father and mouthed, 'Thank you,' while her mother wasn't looking.

"So, what's your type, Emma? Tall, dark, and handsome? Blondes? Red heads?"

"I don't have a 'type,'" Emma told him, rolling her eyes. "I'm not talking about this anymore. Let it drop."

He laughed, but let the topic go. Upstairs in Snow's bedchambers, the girls searched through her enormous closet, looking for something to wear.

"No. No. Nuh-uh. No way. That one's not... nope. No."

And the conversation when on like that for the next twenty minutes, until finally...

"That one!" they both said in unison, pointing to an elegant white white gown with a skirt covered in diamonds.

"Mom," Emma breathed, "it's beautiful."

"This was my wedding dress," Snow told her with a smile.

"Wait, what? Mom, I can't wear your wedding dress!"

"Why not? It'll look beautiful on you. After all, this is a formal ball, and you're going to look spectacular. Is it just that you don't want... I mean... Don't you like it?"

"No, Mom, it's not that! I love it! It's beautiful. I just think... I think it would look better on you. Why don't you wear it?"

"One should only wear something like this one, and I think it's your turn, Emma. I really do."

There was a knock on the door. Emma and Snow exchanged looks, and Snow approached the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Grandma! I wanna help pick out the dress!"

"Come on in, Henry," Snow said with a smile, opening the door for him.

When he entered, he rushed to his mother's side and threw his arms around her.

"Emma!" he cried. "Have you picked one yet?"

"I don't know," Emma said, looking over at the dress Snow was holding. "What do you think of this one? It was Grandma's wedding dress."

"It's beautiful! I love it! Are you gonna try it on?"

"I guess so," she said, looking over at her mother, who nodded.

Emma disappeared into the walk-in closet and reappeared what seemed like ages later.

"This thing is impossible to get on," she mumbled, looking down at herself.

When David appeared in the doorway, they all turned to look at him. Startled, Snow looked over at him, surprised to see him standing there. Her eyes went back and forth between her husband and her daughter as she gaped with her mouth open, completely silent.

"Oh, my God," he said, gaping at her. "Emma, you look amazing. It's perfect."

Emma blushed. When she looked up, she saw his eyes watering.

"Aw, come on... Don't cry..."

He held the tears back, but it was clear that he was close to crying. Snow wrapped an arm around him with a smile, but didn't take her eyes off her daughter.

"What about you?" Emma asked, intentionally changing the subject. "Let's see what you're going to wear."

"You'll see tomorrow night," Snow said with a grin.

Her husband looked disappointed and sighed, but Snow just smiled at him, enjoying the feeling of keeping a surprise from them. Henry beamed up at his grandmother.

"What about me?" he asked. "Will you tell me?"

Snow nodded, her face full of mischievous excitement. Henry bounced on his heels and turned to his mother, laughing.

"I get to know! I get to know!" he bragged.

Emma rolled her eyes, pouting, but Snow didn't budge.

"Go on," Snow said. "Both of you. Shoo!"

With reluctance, they left the room, and Henry shut the door. After Snow had put her dress on, she reappeared from the closet. The red, yellow, and white gown accentuated her features. As Henry smiled at her, she looked at herself in the mirror.

"You look great, Grandma! They're gonna love it. I wish I could go."

He stuck his lower lip out and looked over at her.

"No, Henry. Not to this. We told you; this is an adult party. There's going to be alcohol and..."

"But it's not fair," Henry whined.

"Enough, Henry. We told you no."

"Fine!" he cried, stomping out of the room.

Snow laughed and shook her head. She changed out of her dress and hung it back up in the closet, shutting the door to make sure they didn't know which one she'd chosen. Downstairs in the magnificently large dining hall, Henry had the same discussion with his mother and his grandfather, who gave the same response. He went to bed feeling dejected, and unfortunately for Henry, his family stood their ground.

After the boy went to bed, David and Emma excitedly begged to see Snow's dress, but she stood her ground on that as well, making it clear that stubbornness ran in the family. It wasn't until the next night that her family saw her gown. They marveled at her beauty and agreed that the dress was perfect.

"Are you ready, Emma?" Snow asked, looking her up and down, taking note of her daughter's beauty.

The woman nodded, but her face was covered with worry.

"Maybe this is stupid," she said softly, looking away from her parents. "I feel dumb in this dress. This isn't me at all."

"But Emma!" her son cried, bouncing up and down. "You _have _to go!"

Emma sighed.

"I do not."

"Oh, yes, you do," Snow interjected, putting her hands on her hips. "You convinced me to go, and you're not backing out now."

"Oh, come on. I look ridiculous in this dress."

"You look beautiful," her father told her quickly.

"And it's about time that you looked like a lady," Snow cut in.

"Whatever. I'm bringing my belt and my sword."

"Why? I thought you said nothing was going to happen," Snow said, scowling at her daughter.

"It's not."

"Then leave your weapon at home. Besides, it would look silly with your dress."

"You weren't armed at your wedding?" Emma pressed, raising her voice.

Snow hesitated and looked at her husband, who chuckled and put his hand on his own sword, which was hanging from his belt.

"We both were," he told her.

"But I hid my knives under my dress - one on my right thigh, and one on my left ankle."

"Then that's what I'll do," Emma decided out loud.

Her parents both sighed.

"Alright, Emma," Snow agreed. "But you'd better act like a lady."

"And what the Hell is that supposed to mean?" Emma snapped, glaring at her mother.

"It means that you're going to be polite, and you're going to act like the princess you are."

"I'm not a princess."

"You also said you weren't a savior," David said softly. "But you are."

"You're a beautiful woman, and you have it in you to show your elegance. Can't you just act like a woman for once?" Snow asked.

"Ugh!" Emma cried, throwing her sword down on the table. "This is bullshit!"

"Stop it, Emma," David scolded her. "Just get ready to go."

She sighed, not wanting to continue the argument. She was wasting her energy, and she knew it would take all the energy she had to act like the 'lady' they wanted her to be. It wasn't that they'd won the quarrel; it was simply that she had no desire to deal with the squabble and also had no desire to listen to them complain.

"I am ready," she said shortly, strapping on her knives and standing by the main doors to the palace. "Let's just get this over with."

All three of them put on their masks, which covered their faces enough to conceal their identities. On the way to the 'evil' queen's castle, they rode their horses in silence as Emma's anxiety grew.


	2. Chapter 2: Someone New

The moment they reached the castle, Emma's heart began to race.

"I can't do this," she said, turning back to her horse and gripping the reins.

David grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back towards the stables.

"Tie up your horse. You came all the way here, and now you're going inside, and you're going to have fun."

"Nuh-uh," she protested, shifting her weight back and forth.

"Besides, what if your soul mate is in there? Huh? Maybe the perfect lady is just waiting to dance with you. Maybe you'll fall in love tonight!" he suggested cheerfully.

His eyes were lit up with the typical hope and excitement he displayed about everything. Unceasing was his optimism.

"Shut up," she mumbled, walking towards the stable and tying her horse up inside, hanging the tack on the wall beside the stall.

"You never know," he said with a grin.

Snow rolled her eyes and laughed.

"David," she said. "Leave her alone."

Charming chuckled and shook his head, holding out his arm. Snow threaded hers with his graciously and looked up into his eyes. As they shared a kiss, Emma looked away and covered her eyes.

"Gross," she groaned.

They both laughed, and her father grabbed her arm, gently tugging her out of the stables and leading her towards the castle's entrance. Inside, each of the strings of lights illuminated the sea of people who were all elegantly dressed and waltzing to the beautiful music of the orchestra. Surrounded by masks and hidden faces, Emma quickly became disoriented as she watched the beautiful dancers make the room spin.

* * *

"Why am I doing this?" the queen muttered to herself. "I look ridiculous."

She gazed at herself in the mirror and shuddered at the thought of being seen by hundreds of guests. But something pushed her onward, something strange telling her that everything would be okay. Somehow, through her nervousness, it still seemed like the right thing to do. As she adorned herself with her mask and descended the stairs into the main hall, her stomach churned.

* * *

"It's beautiful," Emma whispered to her father.

He nodded with a smile.

"She may be an evil queen, but she certainly knows how to host a masquerade ball, doesn't she?"

"You're right. She does."

Snow simply turned up her nose at the scene and made her way over to the refreshments table on the right side of the ballroom. Emma and David followed, not wanting to be left alone for fear of feeling uncomfortable in the room by themselves. When Snow turned around, she was clutching a glass of champagne and downing it quickly. To David's surprise, it was gone in a short moment, and she grabbed another glass just as quickly. Receiving a confused and disapproving look from her husband, she drank her next glass at a slower pace.

"I don't know how to dance," Emma told David quietly.

He smiled at his wife and stepped closer to his daughter. David took one of her hands and put the other on her waist.

"Just follow me," he told her.

The two danced together, Emma awkwardly following each of his steps.

"See? It's not that hard. You've got this, Emma," he encouraged her.

She shook her head and sighed, stopping and letting go of his hand, watching as his arms fall to his side.

"What's the matter, kiddo?"

"I'm clumsy, and I don't know what I'm doing."

"You're not clumsy. You just a little with stiff. Relax your muscles."

He held out his hands and waited for her to take them. Reluctantly, she moved back into the dancing position.

"You're a good dancer," she said with a weak smile. "I bet you and Mom had a great dance at your wedding."

He smiled too, and nodded.

"You're right. It was perfect. Your mother and I are truly made for each other, and when we dance, it's evident."

Emma rolled her eyes and laughed, continuing to dance.

"You guys are so gross."

He laughed, too. When the song ended, David stepped away and looked at his wife, who was smiling at them.

"You two are precious," she said, touching Emma's shoulder, "but I think it's my turn."

She stepped into her husbands arms, who held her close and gazed lovingly into her eyes. Emma, not wanting to watch their tender moment, looked around the room at the beautiful masks covering every face. She reached up and touched her own, making sure it was concealing her features. With a sigh, she grabbed a glass of champagne, retreated back towards the rear of the room, and leaned against the wall, watching everyone else dance.

After the next three dances were over, her parents looked around for her. She watched them, knowing they were confused and looking for her, but didn't make her location known. She didn't want to hear them nagging her to dance. But alas, eventually, they found her. As they approached, Emma shut her eyes and groaned, wishing she was back at their own palace, thinking she'd made a great mistake in coming to the ball.

"Come on, Emma," David said. "Go find a lovely lady to dance with."

"I can't dance!" she protested, stomping her foot.

"Stop it!" Snow hissed. "Emma, lose the attitude. You're acting like a child."

"Stop trying to control me."

Her parents both shook their heads and looked at her. David looked around the room for a suitable partner. It took him a while of watching everyone, but he finally found one courtly enough to satisfy his captious nature.

"Her," he whispered in her ear.

After a moment of silence, David took her drink away, grabbed her arm, and shoved her back onto the dance floor. The brunette's exquisite dress embraced her body in all the right places, and when Emma looked to where David was pointing, she noticed. She was the only one in the room wearing black. Emma's mouth hung open. It was the first time Emma had noticed her, and she was sure she hadn't been there moments before. She'd been watching the room intently, entertaining herself by observing the people's interactions. But she hadn't seen the woman in black that night until David had found her. She was standing on the other side of the room near the wall, watching the rest of the people on the dance floor. Emma looked over at her father, unsure, but he motioned for her forward.

Reluctantly, Emma moved closer to the mysterious woman in black, but kept looking back and forth between the woman and her father. He shook his head and turned around, wrapping an arm around his wife and pulling her back into a dance, ignoring Emma's pleading looks. Unable to get more encouragement from her father, she crossed the dance floor and made her way towards the woman in black. She hesitated before she stepped closer, but swallowed her fear and approached her with caution, preparing herself for immanent failure. _Just relax_, she told herself. _Relax and follow her lead._

"Miss," she began softly, "would you do me the honor of giving me this dance?"

She looked Emma over, her eyes moving over the blonde's body. She hesitated, but moved a little closer to Emma. The savior held out her hand, praying that it wasn't covered in sweat. The woman placed gentle fingers on her palm and looked into the eye openings in her mask without saying anything. Her mask cast a shadow over her eyes, concealing their color, but the woman searched for it anyway. The sparkle in Emma's eyes as she accepted her hand was hidden. Emma led her onto the dance floor. _Please don't let me fuck this up, _she prayed, shutting her eyes briefly and sucking in a shaky breath. As she got into the position to dance, she worried that she would blow her chance. But as they began to dance, Emma letting the other woman lead, she found herself relaxing slowly.

"Your dress is beautiful," Emma finally said, trying not to blush.

"Thank you," the woman replied slowly. "Yours is magnificent."

Something about her voice was familiar to Emma, but she couldn't place it.

"It was my mothers wedding dress," Emma told her, bringing a smile to her lips.

"Well, it's wonderful. It's certainly the most stunning in the room."

Emma couldn't fight the blush that rose to her cheeks. Song after song brought them closer together as they talked, until their cheeks brushed.

"This ball is incredible," Emma mused. "I've never been to one."

"Never?" the woman asked in surprise.

"I'm... I haven't... I just never had the opportunity."

"They're overrated anyway. I don't really like them. I don't usually go."

"Then why are you here?"

"I guess because I felt obligated."

"Why?" Emma asked, subconsciously gripping the brunette's hand a little tighter.

"It's a long story," the woman said dismissively.

They were silent for a while, until Emma slowed their pace. But she didn't move away.

"I assume it has something to do with your parents," Emma said gently. "Things like this usually do."

The woman nodded her head, surprised at Emma's observation.

"They used to force me to go, and I've hated dances ever since."

"I'm sorry."

Emma looked at her with genuine concern. Although she hadn't had real parents for long, she could sympathize with her experience of overbearing parenting.

When the woman said nothing, Emma continued with, "I sort of know what you mean. Anyway, parents are also overrated."

When the woman who had been serious up until that point chuckled, Emma smiled at her and giggled too.

"You have a beautiful laugh," Emma told her softly.

This caused the woman to blush as she looked up at Emma's mask, watching the blonde's expression.

"And you have a beautiful smile."

Emma bravely slid her arm around to the woman's back and pulled her closer, closing the space between their bodies. The rest of the night went on like that, the two of them talking as Emma made her laugh.

"Who are you?" Emma whispered, her breath warm on the woman's cheek.

The brunette felt a shiver electrify her body, taking hold of her and causing her to press herself tighter against Emma. The blonde burned with curiosity, unable to believe how well they had connected. She was dying to know. How was it that this woman was able to make her smile so much, more than she had in months? Sure, she was happy - she had her son and her family back in her life - but something was missing. She was still lonely. But that space in her seemed to fill as she listened to the woman's laughter.

The woman shook her head but continued to smile.

"This is a masquerade," she pointed out. "I can't tell you."

"You could," Emma protested. "You just won't."

"Don't be pushy," she giggled, surprising Emma with her geniality . "The mystery is part of the fun."

"But I may never see you again."

The woman considered this and looked at Emma.

"That's true... But I still can't tell you."

Emma stopped dancing and averted her eyes.

"You've no interest in seeing me again, then."

"No, it's not that," the woman told her quickly. "I just... I just can't."

When she saw that Emma looked greatly disappointed, she stepped closer and took her hand, resuming the position to dance. Emma followed her lead quietly and avoided looking at her face.

"Don't be so quiet," the woman said with a tender smile.

"Alright," Emma said softly, but didn't say anything more, the distress still written on her face.

"You're upset with me."

"No."

"Yes, you are."

"I just wish this night would never end," Emma admitted quietly.

"Me, too."

The woman stopped to raise a hand as she lifted Emma's lowered chin with a gentle finger. Before either could think further, the woman kissed her, locking their lips and holding Emma close.

"I'm sorry," the woman whispered, but Emma lowered her head again. "Smile for me?"

Emma blushed but gave a weak smile, encouraged by the softness of the woman's voice.

"Talk to me," the woman said.

At first, Emma didn't know what to say.

"What's your name?"

With a gentle shove, the woman laughed lightly and smiled at her.

"Stop it."

"What is your favorite food?"

"Apples. Definitely apples."

"Not a bad choice. Your favorite hobby?"

"Riding horses."

"I'm terrible at riding," Emma confessed. "You should teach me."

The beautiful woman gave another smile.

"I've been riding since I was young, so I've learned it well by now."

With a nod, Emma gave her a smile as well.

"I've only just started a few months ago," she told her.

"And your hobbies?"

"Bringing criminals to justice, or the mystery of the name of a beautiful maiden. I used to be a sheriff, back where I come from. I've only just moved here recently."

"And do you enjoy this area?"

"I do, yes, but it's been a big change."

"Where did you originally grow up then?"

"That I can't say. If you get to keep a secret, so do I."

"It's curious that you'd choose that as your secret. How about _your _name?"

"That I won't tell you, either. Not until you tell me yours."

"Well, that's not fair, is it?"

"Oh, I think it is." Emma was quiet for a while as they continued to dance, but she stopped once more and asked with hopeful eyes, "Will you kiss me again?"

The woman obliged, kissing her softly as their masks brushed against each other and almost moved to the side to expose their faces, but the brunette straightened hers before it could do so. Emma saw this and sighed, her heart racing from the kiss.

"I'll think of your kiss every day from now on," Emma told her, reaching up and touching the woman's cheek.

The elegant woman looked up at her.

"As will I."


	3. Chapter 3: Stay

It took Emma a while to think of what to say, but when she decided on the words, she surprised herself with their intimate nature. She wasn't used to having personal conversations with strangers.

"What is the most important thing in your life?" Emma asked her.

"My son, but he's... He's with his mother."

"I'm sorry," Emma said with sincerity in her eyes the woman couldn't see.

"He means more to me than anything."

"What's his name?"

"Henry."

Emma's mouth fell open.

"Oh, my God," she gasped, stepping away. "Regina?"

The woman ripped off her mask and stared at the blonde, who pulled off her own mask just as quickly.

"Emma?"

They stared at each other, jaws dropped.

"Oh, my God," Emma repeated, her mouth dry and her heart frozen with shock.

"It can't be you," Regina said, gaping at her. "This can't be happening."

"It's happening."

"No."

"Regina."

They both put their masks back on as Emma stepped closer and reached out her hand.

"No," Regina repeated, taking another step back.

"Tell me tonight meant nothing to you and I'll leave you alone."

"I... I..." Regina stuttered, still staring.

"Tell me," Emma pressed.

"I can't. I can't tell you that."

"Then dance with me..."

Hesitantly, Regina took Emma's hand and stepped forward. Emma pulled her closer and gently pressed their bodies together, unsure of how the woman would react and therefore nervous about Regina's response. But Regina didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned in and allowed their cheeks to brush again and they began to dance.

"Emma," Regina whispered. "I can't believe this is happening."

"Neither can I, but I'm okay with it."

Regina started to move away, but Emma pulled her back.

"How can you be okay with this?"

"Because I've never felt the way I feel tonight."

"I haven't either."

"You really do look beautiful," Emma told her, smiling as she touched the woman's cheek, turning them red.

"As do you," Regina said softly. "I don't want you to leave tonight."

"And I don't want to go."

"Then don't. Send your parents home and stay with me tonight."

Blood flooded Emma's face as she looked at Regina.

"Stay? Tonight?"

"Tonight."

"My parents will -"

"I don't care," Regina cut in. "Stay with me."

"A minute ago you were telling me 'no.' Now you want me all night?"

Emma's blush returned.

"I didn't mean it like that," the blonde said, looking away from Regina.

The queen leaned in, her lips close to Emma's ear, and whispered, "I did."

"What changed your mind?"

"This."

Regina took her hand and pressed it against her chest, letting Emma feel her racing heartbeat.

"Don't you think it's strange that you found me, out of all the people in this room?" Regina asked.

"I didn't," Emma told her. "David did. He pointed you out from across the room."

"Are you serious?"

"Completely."

"Wow."

"I know. But I'm glad..."

"Me, too," Regina said. "I just can't believe you found me."

"Will you kiss me again?" Emma said suddenly, squeezing the queen's hand gently.

This time without hesitation, Regina pressed their lips together.

"Don't leave tonight," she begged.

Emma thought about her options - to stay or leave - and looked around the room for her parents, who were staring lovingly into each others eyes on the other side of the room.

"I can't," Emma told her. "They're... I can't."

"Forget about your parents!" Regina cried. "For once, just do what _you _want! Tell me what you want."

"I think... I think I want to stay."

"You think?"

"I do. I want to stay with you."

"Then stay."

Emma looked down and sighed, but suddenly noticed the woman's perfectly shaped breasts, which were displayed beautifully by her dress.

"What are you looking at, Miss Swan?"

"N-Nothing!" Emma said quickly, her head snapping up as her eyes met Regina's.

"You're lying. But do you like what you see?"

"No... I mean, yes! I mean..." Emma started. "Of course I do."

"Then _stay._"

Emma's heart sank as she looked back to her parents.

"Do you think I could ever be that happy one day?"

"I don't know, but I certainly hope I can be. As much as I hate your parents, I've always envied what they have together," she told Emma. "Let me bring you upstairs, to the tower."

"The tower?"

"The tallest tower of my castle looks over the entire village beneath us, and it gives a perfect view of the stars."

Emma looked hesitant, but continued to hold the woman's hand.

"Come on," Regina said, dragging her off the dance floor, out of the room, and up three flights of stairs.

When they finally reached the top of the tower, which was surrounded by glass windows, Regina gently nudged her closer to the wall. As Emma looked out of the window, her lips parted slightly. The moonlight splashed on her face, illuminating her profile. Regina was staring.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Emma just nodded, until Regina took her hand again, standing next to her and leaning towards the window to see the view. Emma's eyes were locked on the sky, until Regina leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"Kiss me."

The blonde wasted no time turning around and cupping her face in her hands, kissing her hard on the lips. Regina's hands moved up and down her sides. Emma savored each touch as her breath quickened and became shallow. She whimpered, pressing their bodies together. The brunette lifted the skirt of Emma's dress and slipped her hand between her legs, stroking her center slowly with gentle fingers. Emma moaned, unable to keep the sound from escaping her lips. Their tongues danced together, not stopping until the booming sound of fireworks made the floor vibrate beneath their feet. They turned to look out the window once more and watched as the bright, vibrant colors filled the sky.

"You certainly know how to throw a party," Emma said softly, still trying to catch her breath.

Even though her fingers had stopped moving, Regina didn't pull her hand away. They watched the first few fireworks, until Regina moved her fingers again, using her free hand to turn Emma's face towards her as she kissed her lips. The more exasperated Emma became, the harder the brunette moved her fingers.

"Please," Emma moaned, grabbing the woman's wrist and pressing her hand closer to her core.

Regina moved her hand away, smiling as she watched her new lover squirm in agony. When she'd had enough, finally feeling pity for Emma, she pulled Emma's panties down past her thighs, letting them drop to the floor. When Regina's finger's slipped inside her, she nearly screamed with pleasure, but the sound was covered by the noise of the fireworks, which were still lighting up the sky. When the blonde was spent, Regina took her time licking her fingers clean, letting Emma watch. The sweat on Emma's brow told the queen she'd accomplished her goal of pleasing her lover.

"God, you're good at that," Emma gasped, grabbing Regina's hips and pulling her closer. "Is it my turn to please you now, my lady?"

Suddenly filled with courage, she pushed the queen to the opposite side of the room, holding her up against the wall as she slid her tongue over Regina's bottom lip. This earned a moan from the other woman, which Emma savored. The slower her tongue moved, the hotter the fire between Regina's thighs became.

"Take me," she moaned, holding up her skirt as an invitation for Emma to touch her.

"I'm going to."

* * *

**Author's note: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed! I hope you all enjoyed the story!**


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